Spence The Magic Man
by LoveHGSS
Summary: Derek and Emily go to a club and see something they had never pictured in their wildest dream. Spencer Reid/OC. Lemons!


**Summary – Derek and Emily go to a club and see something they had never pictured in their wildest dream. Spencer Reid/OC. Lemons!**

**This is for Karen (CrystalWish), who wanted to see Reid as a 'bad boy' eating nachos. And this is what I came up with. Enjoy!**

**Warning – 18 and over **_**only**_** please. Sexual content. Not work-safe!**

Derek Morgan, your typical delicious hunk of dark man meat, was feeling like partying. And wouldn't you know it? So was his fellow clubber, the stunning Emily Prentiss. Not only were they coworkers, they were friends and liked to go out together. On days after a hard case, when everyone else went about their business, Derek and Emily would leave together in his Jeep, drive to the nearest club, get hammered, and _dance_. They would dance for hours, with each other, with other people, with _everybody_.

And so it was on that dreary Saturday night after a particularly long case in Modesto, California that Derek and Emily once again drove to their favorite club – Andrew's. They easily got in the front door, dozens of people bitching and complaining as the bouncer let them through ahead of the crowd. Steve, another bouncer, took their coats to one of the private VIP room upstairs, where they typically would go at the end of the night to wind down before leaving. They made their way towards the bar end of the club, both stripping off random bits of clothing and stuffing it into Emily's previously empty oversized purse. Derek nodded his head in approval of Emily's outfit, a routine they had picked up when she had tried to stay in her work clothes. Beneath her blue blouse was a shimmery black top with a dangerously low neckline, the bottom of the tight garment barely covering her midriff, accentuating her curves.

"Nice," he shouted over the loud music.

She smiled her thanks and sat at their usual table, taking off her tennis shoes in exchange for four-inch, strappy black stilettos. Derek's manicured eyebrows shot up as she put them on, wondering for the umpteenth time how she walked, let alone danced the way she did, in those shoes. Dan, the bartender, waved at them and Derek quickly made his way to the bar. The two men shook hands and Derek walked back to the table with two large drinks and two shot glasses – rum and Coke for Emily, a whiskey and Coke for himself, and double shots of peppermint schnapps to start their night. Emily held up a few different compacts along with other random makeup items. Derek squinted, checked her out, and then picked the black eyeliner, blue eye shadow, and dark red lipstick. She smiled, picked up her shot glass, tapped against it Derek's, and downed it just as quickly as he did before setting to work.

"So!" Derek called over the music. "Fuck Hotch yet?"

Emily threw a random compact at him. He easily caught it and put it back in front of her.

"No!" she shouted, rolling her eyes. "Fuck Garcia yet?"

Derek shot her a death glare. "That woman is not someone to _fuck_, Prentiss. That woman is someone to lay down and make sweet, sweet passionate love to. Not like Hotch, sweet cheeks, sorry."

"So you'd make love to Pen, but you'd fuck Hotch? What?" Emily asked, laughing.

Derek rolled his eyes. "Don't you compare my goddess to your wanna-be-fuck-buddy."

Emily nearly choked on her drink. "Oh, come on, Morgan! Really! You'd fuck Penelope if you had the chance."

"Well, yes," he conceded finally. "_However_, I would not just want to fuck her. I want a life with that woman. The day Kevin messes up, I'll be there to gather her up in my arms and show her a real man."

Emily shook her head, finally finished with her makeup. "Good?" she asked, gesturing to her face.

He nodded. "Looks great."

"And just to let you know," she said, almost too quietly for him to hear, "I want a life with Hotch, too."

Derek gave her a knowing smile. "Take it easy," he advised in a very brotherly tone. "He'll come around; you know that. He just needs you to be patient. You got a date with him tomorrow, at least."

Emily smiled brilliantly. "I know, which is why I'm getting this out of my system. Let's dance!"

"Find me a woman, first!" he called as she was getting up.

She sighed and sat back down. This was their favorite game – 'find me someone to grind against'. Emily surveyed the crowded club, trying to find a girl for Morgan. She knew his type, but there weren't many, if any, of them in the club. He liked women who looked, talked, smelled, and thought like Penelope Garcia. That was _never_ going to happen.

"Found one!" Morgan said, long before Emily even really started to look.

"Where?" she asked, looking around.

"For you," he said. "Three o'clock, tall, about 6'2, grey shirt and dark jeans."

Emily spotted him. "Oh, good call!" she complimented, high-fiving him. "Got one for you! Walking toward us, tall, 5'9, wild black curls, oddly dressed."

And then Morgan saw her. She was beautiful, almost too beautiful. She was tall and slight but with a full bust peeking out from her pink and white striped blouse. She wore a black skirt that fell mid-thigh, showing off her long, toned legs. Morgan's mouth dropped open as he watched her walk with such grace, her slim yet somehow sturdy hips swaying, clearly screaming for his attention. She walked straight past him and he turned to watch, nearly groaning as her perfectly round bottom jiggled slightly with each step, meaning she was either wearing a thong or nothing at all.

And that was when they saw him.

"No fucking way," the pair at the table said in unison.

Seated in a massive booth, happily munching away on a plate of half-eaten deluxe nachos was Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid. He was dressed to the nine's, a solid black button up with a flat black tie and a pair freshly pressed black trousers. His hair was slicked back out of his face, giving him a certain 'boy boy' look. His lean form was not stiff and proper, but rather fluid and relaxed. A hoard of women, and even a few men, who were chatting his ear off, surrounded him but he wasn't saying a word. Emily and Derek watched in stunned silence as Spencer held up a hand, easily quieting half the club.

"Card or coin?" he asked the closest female, her fake breasts and blonde hair bouncing as she squealed, obviously excited that he picked her of all people.

"Coin!" the blonde said.

Spencer gave her a smirk, one that had Derek and Emily's mouths dropping open. It was primal, sexual, and he openly took a glance at her chest before rolling up his sleeves.

"Is that a doppelganger?" Emily asked, unable to take her eyes away from him.

"It has to be," Derek replied, his eyes watering because he had yet to blink, afraid the image before him would disappear.

"Shh," Emily hissed, "I can't hear him."

Derek batted his hand at her.

"As you can see, nothing can be hidden in my sleeves," they heard him say.

"You're kidding me," Derek breathed.

"No way," Emily chimed.

Spencer held up a quarter. "Now you attest to the fact this is indeed a real American quarter, the year being 1999, correct?"

The blonde looked at the quarter and he let her hold it for a moment before she handed it back. "Yes!" she agreed.

Spencer placed the quarter in his hand, palm up, and covered it with his other hand. A gasp filled the room as he took his top hand back, the quarter gone.

"Now wait," he said as people began asking questions. "May I?"

He pointed at the blonde's ample cleavage and she puffed out her chest in acceptance. Spencer swiftly dipped his hands between the large mounds and pulled out a coin. He held it out to the flushed woman. Her eyes widened and she took the coin, holding it up and shouting, "It's the same one!"

The club went wild, rounds of applause and cheers nearly deafening the whole room. The second Spencer put his hand up for silence, Derek had to rub his ears at the sudden lack of sound. Spencer put the coin in his hand again, closed his long fingers around it before quickly opening his hand again, the coin gone. He kept one hand up for silence and turned to a pretty redhead to his other side.

"Anything in my mouth?" he asked, letting her look around, sticking out his tongue and letting her look there, too.

"No," she said in a cool tone, but you could tell she was excited.

"Anything in your mouth?" he asked with a purposeful raise of his eyebrow.

The redhead blushed and shook her head, letting the blonde look for good measure.

"Do you mind?" Spencer asked in a deeper-than-normal voice.

The girl shook her head quickly and Spencer grabbed her, dragging her close. His hand slinked around to the back of her neck and he open-mouth kissed her, no shame in letting the whole club know his tongue was plundering the girl's mouth. Just as soon as it had started, it was over, Spencer pulling back while making an 'mmm' sound. The redhead stared at him with clouded eyes, her mouth still open, obviously wanting more.

"You taste like cherry coke, vodka, and metal," he said cockily.

The woman's eyebrows came together. "What?"

Spencer stuck his tongue out, the whole room once again going wild when they saw the exact same quarter on it. Derek looked at Emily, whose mouth hung open and her eyes were as wide as saucers.

"This is a joke, right?" he asked.

Emily shook her head. "No," she breathed. "What is going on?"

Derek shrugged. "There's something wrong with this picture."

But there wasn't. Spencer Reid, genius extraordinaire, was even smarter than his coworkers gave him credit for. He knew they were there. He knew they were watching him. So maybe he played it up a little, but this was the kind of thing you would find him doing on a typical Saturday night. He'd go to a club, show off a little, and get the woman who stood off to side and watched him with hungry eyes. And that woman just happened to be the one he had seen Derek ogling. Perfect. That'd show Derek that Spencer wasn't just some innocent kid, but that he was better than the self proclaimed "ladies man" himself. A chant of 'one more' started to take over the club and Spencer smiled, looking about the room, but made sure he didn't look to Derek and Emily. This was going to be fun.

"Alright, alright!" he called over the noise, raising both hands.

He pulled his sleeves higher, making it look like he was about to do something more complicated. That was half of it, he had learned, prepping the audience, getting them excited, riling them up a little. He took the coin and held it between his thumb and index finger.

"How many ways are there to make a dollar?" he asked the crowd.

Before giving them time to answer, he flipped the coin, caught it, and opened his hand. There sat two half dollar coins, the quarter no longer there.

"One way," he said, the people around him stunned to silence. He put the change in his other hand, three coins now there instead of two. "Two quarters and a half dollar? Second way."

He tossed the three coins in the air and somehow managed to catch them all again. He opened his hand and there sat a crumpled dollar bill.

"There are 293 ways to make change for this one bill," he said, spouting off information but saying it in the sexiest way Emily, or anyone in the club really, had ever heard. "But just make sure you hang onto that money tightly." He ripped the bill into pieces, fanned it out in his hand for all to see, unable to help the pleased smirk on his face at the attention he was receiving. For the last time, his hand closed and opened again, the quarter he had started with sitting in his palm. "Because you never know what it could turn into."

There was only a single beat of silence before the crowd of people went nuts, clapping and cheering and whistling. He flipped the coin in the air, and was pleased to see when the girl he had spotted earlier, who had been slowly moving closer, caught it. It wasn't a quarter in which she caught, but a heart shaped guitar pick with the words "VIP" on it. She raised her eyebrow at him. He raised his back. She sent him a sly wink and sauntered off. Spencer stood from his seat, reached down for one last nacho, and excused himself, ignoring any and all questions.

"Later, ladies and gents, I'll take your questions later," he yelled over the crowd. "And no, I will not teach you how to do it!"

There were at least a dozen upset groans, but Spencer just kept walking. He detoured to the right so he wouldn't directly pass Emily and Derek, but he felt their eyes scorching his back as he headed toward the stairs of the VIP rooms. He smiled briefly at the one of the bouncers before ascending the stairs. And then there she stood, in the middle of a massive room with giant red couches and a hanging chandelier. A bottle of some expensive champagne sat chilling in a bucket of ice, two long stemmed glasses turned upside down. Without a word, Spencer uncorked the bottle, his eyes holding hers as he poured the drinks.

"Spencer Reid," he said, holding the glass out to her.

"Crystal Meyer," she replied, giving him a small smile before taking a long pull of champagne.

"Enjoy the show?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Not bad," she said in a cool tone, not sounding impressed.

He quirked his eyebrow. "You walked over, hung in the shadows watching me, and slowly made your way closer and closer. I'd say you enjoyed it."

She laughed. "How do you know it was the magic trick I was enjoying?"

"Oh, please do correct me if I'm wrong; I like having all my facts straight," he said, taking a sip from his glass.

Crystal walked closer and put her hand on his chest. "It was your face, your hands, not the tricks."

"Mmm, now that's what I like to hear," he murmured, putting his hand on her hip and pulling her in, letting her body rest against his, their lips an inch apart.

"Your hands are beautiful," she whispered, leaning in. "Would it be too bold of me to tell you I want them all over me?"

Spencer smiled and shook his head. "Not in the least."

"I want you to work your magic, Spencer… on me."

That did him in. He closed the small gap between their mouths, kissing her fiercely, wasting no time with niceties. Their half-full glasses clattered to the floor as they all but attacked each other, their hands gripping, grabbing, touching any part they could reach. Spencer raked his hands into her wild mane of black curls and tipped her head back, deepening the kiss further. She groaned into his mouth as he took full ownership of hers. They were a tangle of limbs as they stumbled back to the sofa, falling onto it with Spencer beneath her. She pulled him up by the shirt, forcing him to sit. They got situated with hurried movements, Spencer in a sitting position with Crystal straddling his lap.

"You're gorgeous," Spencer mumbled against her lips, his nimble fingers easily undoing her blouse in less than a minute.

She gasped as his hands made quick work of her lacy white bra before she even had time to loosen his tie. He chuckled.

"Want me to get it?" he asked.

Crystal growled and attacked his mouth furiously, ripping his tie off and roughly unbuttoning his shirt. Spencer retook control of the kiss, sitting forward more in order to remove his shirt. They both groaned at the feel of skin on skin, her breasts pressing against his slim chest. He was slight but toned, not scrawny but nowhere near buff. She broke the heated kiss and rose higher on her knees, reaching between them and unfastening his belt and undoing the button to his pants before sliding the zipper down.

"Condom?" she asked.

He nodded, shoving his hand into his pocket and producing a green foil package. He ripped it open with his mouth hastily, lifting his hips in order for Crystal to pull his pants and briefs down enough to free his straining cock from it's confines. She took the condom from him and he groaned as she rolled it on him, her hand lingering in order to stroke him a few times. His hands ran up her thighs, smirking when he realized she wasn't wearing anything beneath her skirt.

"Naughty girl, huh?" he asked, reaching around and grabbing two handfuls of her lush ass.

"Very naughty," she breathed out, scooting closer until she was perched directly above his length.

Spencer stared into her bright hazel eyes, suddenly feeling nervous. There was something about the girl that caused his pulse to race, made his blood boil in the most primal way. But there was also a part of him that felt the need to slow down for once, to not just have her ride him until he got what his body was screaming for. Crystal saw this look and brought her mouth to his, instantly slowing their pace as her lips simply molded against his, no hurry, no pressure. His hand raked into her mass of curls, holding his palm against her cheek as their tongues met almost tenderly.

They both gasped against the other's mouth as Crystal rocked back and forth until Spencer was at her entrance. Their foreheads pressed together and they whimpered in unison as she slid down his length, enveloping him until he was fully seated within her. He noticeably swallowed and closed his eyes, her impossibly tight walls surrounding him in the most erotic way he'd ever felt. They kissed again, Crystal letting him lead, and he kissed her deeply, slowly, passionately. Her breath became ragged as his hand left her bottom and started to roam her sides, her full breasts.

"How often do you do this?" she asked when they broke apart.

He scrunched his eyebrows. "Do you really want to know that now?"

Spencer saw indecision sweep across her features and he honestly didn't want to tell her. Instead of letting her think, he put his hands on her hips, pushing her back just a little before pulling her close again. Crystal moaned as he continued to push and pull her, creating a delicious friction between her thighs. She rocked with him, her back arching as he moved her faster and faster. Spencer took advantage of this and brought his mouth to her breasts, kissing the supple flesh before taking one of her puckered nipples into mouth.

"Spencer," she moaned.

He smiled and suckled her, letting his tongue draw circles around her rosy bud, reveling in the sounds of pleasure she was making. He loved it when she moaned his name; it made his chest swell and his groin tighten. He was so used to hearing 'Reid' that anytime a woman called him 'Spencer' he ate it up like a man starved. And there had been a lot of women.

"Tell me," she panted, sitting up and pulling away from his mouth.

"Too many," he replied, moaning as she finally rose up on her knees, his hard cock nearly falling out of her before she impaled herself on him.

She leaned down and put her lips right by his ear, raising up once again. "You use that little magic trick to fuck women, Spence?"

"Yes!" he cried, her dropping down once again. "Worked on you, didn't it?"

She moaned her agreement as he began controlling her movements, meeting her halfway every time she came back down.

"Do you even remember my name?" she asked, rolling her hips and smiling when his eyes rolled back.

"Crystal," he said instantly.

"Good memory," she compliment, grinding her hips roughly into his.

"Like you wouldn't believe," he replied with a smirk.

Crystal's hazel eyes finally locked on Spencer's dark brown ones and she smiled at him, sending a jolt through his stomach. She really was beautiful.

"You're beautiful," he blurted.

His eyes widened as he realized what he said.

"Thank you," she said, bringing her lips to his for a gently kiss. "You're alright, I suppose."

"You're going to pay for that," he growled when he realized she was joking, wrapping his arms around her and flipping her onto her back with ease. She squealed in surprise but cried out in ecstasy when he slammed into her. Her legs stretched out and wrapped around his hips, her ankles locking on his lower back.

"Flexible," he complimented.

"You have no idea," she said with chuckle.

"I'd love to find out," he replied.

Spencer reached back and grabbed her ankle, tossing her leg over his shoulder. Crystal hissed as he pumped into her again, his shockingly large cock filling her over and over until the only thing she could do was hold on for dear life. Her hands gripped his arms, her nails seeking purchase along his skin as he pounded into her heat. Her body reacted, trying to meet his quickened thrusts, her back arching and her mouth falling open with heavy pants.

"You're so _tight_," Spencer ground out.

"Feels so good," she replied with a moan.

"So close," he warned.

"Me too."

Spencer leaned down and put his lips right by her ear. "Cum for me, Crystal," he whispered huskily. "Let me feel you unravel. I want to feel your hot pussy clench around me."

Crystal arched further, his words sending a rush to her stomach.

"That's it," he breathed.

She all but screamed as Spencer's hand somehow squeezed between their bodies, his fingers hurriedly massaging her clit until she completely lost it only seconds later. Her soaked walls clamped down around him as he rode her through her orgasm, making harsh, deep thrusts into her quaking body. She cried his name over and over, her body completely tensing for only a moment before she fell over the edge, his name mixed in with obscenities as she came around him. His mouth latched onto hers, stifling his loud moan as her slick, convulsing core milked him to his own release. His fingers dug into her thigh as he made one last hard thrust into her, not able to hold off any longer no matter how badly he wanted to.

Spencer and Crystal kissed for a while, letting their bodies come back down from their intense releases. She stroked his face, his hair, his back. He slowly slid her leg from his shoulder, mindful of the fact she was probably a little stiff from holding the position for an immeasurable amount of time. He smiled against her lips as she gave a disapproving groan as he pulled out of her, but not ready to stop kissing her plump lips yet. After another few minutes, he realized he had never lingered before, never stopped to enjoy the feel of a woman's body beneath his after having sex with her. That thought caused him to pull away instantly.

"Spencer…"

He smiled at her, kissed her again, and pushed himself up until he was able to stand. He disposed of the condom in the small trashcan, knowing the bouncers always went up right after he left. It had been their agreement; he paid them an extra few hundred a month, and they take care of the rest. He watched Crystal out of the corner of his eye as they dressed, not able to fully take his eyes away from her magnificent form. Before he had the chance, she walked up to him and pushed his hands away from his tie, and did it for him. He just stared at her, confused but pleased.

"You know, Spence," she started, but he cut her off.

"It'd be better not to complicate things."

It was his generic response, and most women just smiled a little sadly and went their own way. For the first time, though, Spencer didn't completely mean it. He wanted to see her again. But he knew he couldn't. No relationship that involved him would ever work. No woman would be able to handle him in real life. Not the smart Dr. Reid who worked for the FBI and was barely ever around. He knew that. He was the furthest thing from stupid, and being able to accept those facts were what had started his Saturday club routines in the first place.

"I see what you're hiding behind, Dr. Reid."

Spencer blinked at her. "I never said I was a doctor."

"And I'm not an idiot. I know Aaron Hotchner."

"Wha-," he started, but she put his fingers to his lips.

"He sent me to make sure you weren't doing anything illegal," she explained, reaching up and brushing his hair from his forehead, trying to get it back to how it was before their tryst.

His mind reeled.

"I'm the newest member to the B.A.U.," she said, a slow smile spreading on her face.

"You're fucking kidding me," he breathed out. "I… I didn't know about anyone new."

Crystal couldn't help but laugh. "I'm joking, Spencer."

He let out a huge breath. "How do you know Hotch?"

"Aaron?" she asked with a smile. "I've known him since I was young. I used to live down the street. He was very supportive when I entered the academy."

"Academy?" he squeaked out, starting to sound more like his usual self.

"I said I wasn't joining the team you're on, not that I wasn't already on one."

Spencer raised his eyebrow. "I've never seen your name in the registry."

She patted his cheek gently. "Maybe I gave you a fake name… or maybe I'm undercover."

With that, she planted a small kiss on his lips and he responded on instinct, but she pulled back quickly.

Crystal smiled at him, turned, and began walking toward the stairs. "Have a good night, Spence."

"Wait!" he called. She had just made it to the stairs and turned back to look at him. "What if I wanted a real date?"

"Who said I want one?" she asked with a sly smile.

He spluttered, not used to the tables turning like that. "I just assumed…"

"If you decide you want one, you'll find me." Her hazel eyes raked over his body one last time and she licked her lips. "Goodbye, Magic Man."

He watched her go, too shocked to move a muscle. By the time he came out of his stupor, he knew she would be long gone. He collapsed on the couch, her smell still lingering in the air. Questions raced through his accelerated brain, almost too fast for him to keep up. He put his head in his hands and focused on the most important question – was Spencer Reid ready to give up everything and attempt to find a woman whom he had barely even had a full conversation with? Or would he continue on with how he had been? Was it worth the time and effort? Was it worth the pain and the annoying things he could just easily avoid by staying the way he was?

"Spencer?"

He looked up and smiled at the bouncer that was at the bottom of the stairs when he had come up with Crystal – if that was her name.

"What's up, John?" he asked.

"Crowd is asking for you," he said with a smile. "You ready?"

"That's a good question," he sighed. "A very good question…"

_A/N – Thank you for reading! Please take just a second out to review! I don't care if it's one word or a thousand! I really love your feedback! Thanks!_


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